


Not Your Mother’s Superhero

by negovansexual



Category: Carmilla (Web Series), Carmilla - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, if you like comics but they’re just not gay enough, if you like supergirl but it’s just not gay enough
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-23 00:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13775379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/negovansexual/pseuds/negovansexual
Summary: National City was supposed to be Laura's big break.Fresh out of college and a little Internet fame for photos she got of an incident with a giant anglerfish, her first official job as a photographer is to capture a front-page photo - or any photo - of National City’s resident superhero. But Mircalla isn’t exactly photo-friendly, and Laura’s at the end of her rope until the National City News hires a new intern who seems to have an in with the elusive high-flyer.Between desperately trying to save her job and desperately trying not to develop a crush on intern Carm, Laura’s starting to think National City isn’t the big break she thought it was.





	1. Chapter 1

National City was supposed to be Laura's big break.

  
She'd originally planned for Metropolis to be her big break, but when she'd announced that plan to her dad it had taken four paper bags and an hour to get him breathing normally again.

  
Not that this place didn't have its own superhero. Almost every city did these days - somebody in a cape or mask, dashing through the city to catch criminals and save the day. The only difference between the hero of National City and every other puppy-saving high flyer was her notorious avoidance of cameras. The most anyone had ever managed to get was the hem of her cape, flicking at the edge of a crime scene, or a flash of dark hair in a cloud of dust. The local papers and blogs were getting desperate, and desperation scored jobs for recent college grads with only one real project to their names. After getting a few great shots of that business with the giant anglerfish and the tattooed guy who came out of the ocean to deal with it, Laura had been enjoying just enough fame to leverage a position with the National City News. It wasn't the big paper in town; everyone knew that media in National City was dominated by a media conglomerate run by one of the most skilled journalists of her time. But Catco didn't hire based on pictures of fish, and any job was better than none.

  
Laura was painfully aware of exactly how bad no job would be. Two months into her stint in National City, and that was the exact fate she found herself facing.

  
"I mean, what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to catch her when she flies and has super-speed?" she groaned into her desk, her face pressed against yet another stack of glossy, vibrant photos of a single black boot in midair.

  
"Have you tried giant flypaper? I'm not saying I could definitely put that together, but I am saying it probably wouldn't be that difficult." LaFontaine's head popped up from behind the extensive computer set-up in the corner of the tiny office they shared. Their red hair still had the dust in it from when they'd had to crawl into the corner to fix the ancient server yesterday, which Laura took to mean that they hadn't made it home last night. Again.

  
"Yes, because I really want my first headline to be 'Local Photographer Traps Mircalla in Giant Flypaper'." Laura lifted her head and sighed. "I just need a new plan. A new train of thought! What would Lois Lane do?" She paused, then made a face. "Get kidnapped. Lois Lane would totally get kidnapped so that the superhero would swoop in and save her, and then she'd get beautifully lit, perfectly centered selfie."

  
"I'd have to advise against that. Lois Lane also pretty much has a guarantee of being saved, whereas our superhero does not have the best track record with that," LaFontaine said, reaching for their coffee. "Eugh. Did you make a new pot this morning?"

  
"No, but there's some back there from your last pot last night. I picked up donuts on the way in, though. When was the last time you ate?" Laura tried to give LaFontaine a severe look, but they dodged it neatly and slid back to the folding table in the far corner that served as their break room.

  
"Do you really think Perry didn't show up last night with dinner? I'm pretty sure she thinks if she leaves me alone for more than eight hours, I'll just sit in the corner and die."

  
Laura conceded that point with a shrug. LaFontaine might have the survival instincts of a lemming, but their best friend appeared to have taken it on herself to be the office mother. It had only taken a few late nights for Perry to start showing up with Laura's favorite lo mein whenever she brought LaFontaine a care package of vegan fried rice and sesame tofu. Once Laura had seen Perry eyeing the dust that coated the mess of wires and computer terminals that LaFontaine remained walled up in 20 hours a day, but not even Perry would dare touch that set-up.

  
Laura learned fast that LaFontaine managed everything digital about the paper. Ms. Cochran had owned the paper since before time began and was an excellent boss and journalist, but became visibly skittish around anything more powerful than a Walkman. LaFontaine had built the system from the ground up when they'd started a few years before. On Laura's first day, Ms. Cochran gushed that LaFontaine had single-handedly saved the paper from dying the same slow death as so many other printed newspapers around the country. LaFontaine had only grinned, shrugged, and offered to help Laura hook up to the WiFi. There was only slight mocking about the cookie sticker on the front of her laptop.

  
Since then, Ms. Cochran had been a vague presence in the office. The huge old printing press divided the tiny one-story building neatly in half, with Laura and LaFontaine in the dusty room to the right and Ms. Cochran in her office on the left. Occasionally they saw her, hurrying out with a frantic smile and wave, but for the most part, Laura and LaFontaine were on their own. Laura could count on one hand the number of conversations she'd had with her boss since she started. The last one, however, had been much more strained than she expected at 10:00 in the morning in the supply room. Laura had only been able to shift nervously, a new USB cord in one hand, as Ms. Cochran had heavily implied that there wasn't going to be any room in next year's budget for a photographer if said photographer didn't manage to do her job and get NCN back on the map. Laura had taken the hint: get pictures of Mircalla. Do what Catco hadn't done yet. Live up to her resume.

  
"Okay, so kidnapping is off the table. For now. What else is there? I'm already tracking police scanners, I've got two contacts in the department, and I spent twelve hours yesterday sitting in the park she's been seen in the most. I got some fantastic photos of a streaker, some pigeons, and a kid dropping his ice cream," Laura said, scrolling through the photos on her laptop.

  
"What about banks? A few blogs are saying that the break-in Tuesday might just be the start. It fits the same pattern as a series of bank robberies they had over in Central City last month." LaFontaine settled back in their corner, armed with coffee and three donuts. "I can do some digging, see if I can put together some information about where they might hit next."

  
"That's a start, anyway." Laura leaned back in her chair, her stomach churning. "My college roommate is stationed near there, I think. Maybe she knows something."

  
"Isn't she in the military or something?" LaFontaine had already disappeared behind the wall of monitors again, only the tips of their red hair visible.

  
"Apparently. I'm still not entirely sure how the girl who spent most of freshman year in a pink crop top with her name on it in rhinestones became a general in less than three years, but that's what the last alumni newsletter said. Which explains why she hasn't answered any of my texts lately."

  
LaFontaine's only response was a noncommittal mumble, which meant they had already vanished into some dark corner of the Internet. Laura sighed and dropped her chin into her hand. She pulled up the best photo she had of Mircalla to study it for the billionth time. Three days ago, she'd caught a silhouette against the clouds as Mircalla exploded off the scene of a fire in a local elementary school. Laura squinted again at the blurry profile and swirl of dark hair, as if she expected some clarity to suddenly rise out of the shadows.  
An hour later, all she had to show for her efforts was a headache. She leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes. "I think my brain has melted."

  
"Is there any more coffee?" LaFontaine asked, without moving from their huddled position.

  
Laura glanced over at the coffee pot and groaned. "No, I forgot. Dammit. Sorry, LaF."

  
"Sounds like an excellent excuse for a coffee run. And maybe some lunch."

  
"It's three in the afternoon," Laura reminded them.

  
They just shrugged. "Whatever. Food is food."

  
Laura stood, stretched, and grabbed her backpack. "Anything specific?"

  
"If you happen to find yourself near that vegan taco truck, I wouldn't say no to a burrito. Or two," LaFontaine said.

  
Laura hesitated, then slipped her camera around her neck. She wouldn't stave off unemployment with a few human interest photos, but it might help. "Burritos and coffee it is."

 

The line at the taco truck stretched back fifteen feet, so Laura made the executive decision to get coffee first. There wasn't a coffee place in National City that wasn't packed in mid-afternoon, but she managed to score her iced coffee and LaFontaine's triple espresso in a fairly reasonable time. Coffees in hand, she lingered by the door to wait for the line at the taco truck to go down. She was so focused on the sweet rush of caffeine and sugar that when the first chunk of concrete hit the street, she didn't flinch. By the time the second exploded into dust on the asphalt, people were screaming. Laura's chest tightened hard, even as her heart started pounding. _This is it._ Possible death, along with possible victory.

  
She darted out the door. People were desperate to get back into the coffee shop, grabbing children and shoving for anything that seemed like cover. Laura struggled against the press of people. She pressed herself up against the patio wall, clutching her camera in one hand and craning her neck to see out. Stories overhead, bright red light flashed against the side of a building, followed by a metallic screech and another shower of concrete and glass. In the sky above, a sickly gray creature beat impossibly huge wings, sending a shockwave of wind against the city.

  
"Holy..." Laura's stomach clenched into an iron knot. She huddled against the patio wall, suddenly feeling as though she'd been dunked into ice water. National City's only other alien invaders had at least looked human. That thing was about as far from Earthly as Laura could have imagined. Her mouth flooded with the coppery taste of fear.

  
Red light flashed again. Laura squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the next impact.

  
Nothing came. Instead - shouts. Terror, anger - relief.

  
Laura creaked open her eyes, squinting into the midday light. Against the ruined asphalt, a small shadow rushed up the middle of the street. People pressed against buildings, covered in the gray dust of concrete and the shimmer of shattered glass, but their faces were upturned to the sky with grins.

  
Laura inched forward. Her hand lifted her camera, as if some part of her was trying to make the best of it around the pants-shitting terror. The creature barely had time to react before Mircalla's dark form hit it square between what Laura thought might be eyes. It stretched out clawed fingers, but she'd already slipped away. Her cape caught the sun, glowing briefly a triumphant deep purple. Laura pressed her camera against her eye, her finger stabbing the shutter release over and over. The fight turned into a series of still frames.

  
The purple of Mircalla's cape swirling over the pale gray of the creature's skin as she darted behind it.

  
Dark curls falling stark against pale skin just before she delivered what looked like a crushing blow to the back of its head.

  
Mircalla bursting through the creature's wing, her arms crossed over her head, her black costume splattered with white blood.

  
The creature drawing back, its torn wing cradled against its body, as Mircalla hovered in front of it, her cape snapping in the wind from its breath.

  
Mircalla tossed her hair, her back to Laura, then surged forward. Her body slammed into the creature's. Without stopping, the two burst directly up into the sky. In the time it took for Laura to edge forward, both had become tiny forms against the sun.


	2. I’m the New Intern

Laura slammed the office door open, her head still spinning with her success. "LaF, you are never going to believe what just happened. I just almost got crushed but then-"

She stopped dead. LaFontaine had emerged from their electronic den, hours too early. They stood near Laura's desk, looking highly uncomfortable.

"What? Is everything okay?" Laura glanced around for some sign of Ms. Cochran or an electrical fire, but the only thing different in the office was a leather jacket slung across Laura's desk.

"I think so? There's just, uh - well." LaFontaine glanced pointedly at the breakroom corner. A stranger stood there, stealing donuts in the bright light of day. As they stared, the stranger reached for the Oreo donut, the one Laura had been specifically saving for her late night snack.

"Excuse me!" Laura dropped her bag to the floor.

The stranger pulled her hand back from the donut to turn to Laura. "What?"

"Those aren't yours! Who are you? Why are you even here?" Laura demanded. While the stranger was distracted, LaFontaine stole the prized pastry back to their hub with an apologetic grimace.

"Didn't Ms. Cochran tell you? I'm Carm. I'm the new intern." The stranger grinned and grabbed a red velvet donut.

"For what?" Laura looked wildly at LaFontaine, who just lifted their hands in bewilderment.

"Editing. Ms. Cochran was my journalism professor in college, so she said I could work here until I find another job in the city," the stranger said, as if this just explained her trespassing and donut theft. She ran her free hand through her dark hair, chewing thoughtfully on her stolen pastry. "You ever consider cleaning this place?”

"I - you - but - " Laura spluttered. "How are we supposed to know you're not lying? National City isn't exactly known for its lack of crazy people!"

"Uh, Laur?" LaFontaine lifted their phone, making a face. "Ms. Cochran just texted. Says she's sorry she forget to mention but the new intern should be coming in this afternoon." Laura stared at LaF in betrayal. They were supposed to be a united front against invaders.

"Guess that's that then. Sorry, cupcake." Carm smirked at Laura, plucked another donut from the box, and looked around expectantly. "There wouldn't happen to be a spare desk around here, would there?"

LaF pointed over their wall of monitors at the desk crammed in the furthest back corner, across from Laura's. Laura had been using it to pile papers and catch her crumpled photos, but it was technically a usable workspace. That didn't mean that Carm had the right to use it. Laura barely had time to send LaF another outraged stare before Carm slung her leather jacket from Laura's desk to the dusty spare one. "So what does anyone actually do around here?"

"I'm uh, tech support. Laura here is our photographer. Perry and Sarah Jane are the writers, but they're both out of the office. Probably for the next week." LaF didn't even look at Laura as she threw herself into her chair and began angrily hooking up her camera to her computer.

"I see. It'll be just us, then. Sounds like a real blast." Carm hadn't bothered to dig the desk chair out of the piles of papers it sat buried under, instead preferring to just perch on top of the desk and continue eating Laura's donuts. She rested her arms on her knees, her ripped black jeans now lined with dusty fingerprints. Her punk-rock t-shirt and thick spiked bracelets completed the 'I don't care, ask me why' look that Laura thought everyone had given up after junior year of high school.

"Yeah, well, you might want to get prepared for a little more action. I just got some shots of Mircalla," Laura shot at her. She brimmed with the need to get one over on this trespasser, her annoyance driving out a little of her triumph.

"You did?" LaF's face appeared over the top of their monitor, apparently finally interested enough to risk making eye contact with Laura.

"Yes!" Laura prodded the old computer into starting to download. "I almost died for them, but I might have actually gotten something we can use. And, y'know, something that'll keep my job."

Carm crooked one dark eyebrow at her. "Your job is to get pictures of Mircalla? I'm surprised you're still employed."

Laura didn't feel like dignifying that with a response. "Something attacked outside of the coffee shop - not that I have any idea what it was, besides huge and terrifying and probably depositing massive amounts of alien radiation on the city - and she showed up to take it out."

LaF grinned. "Sounds reasonably epic. I'll see if I can dig up what the thing was."

"It was like, if an alien snake ate an alien bat, then lost all its scales and turned gray in its plunge from the atmosphere." Laura started clicking through her shots. A lot of them were unusable: there were strings of just clouds of dust, dotted with hunks of flying concrete or terrified faces. Then, finally, the shots she'd been waiting for. She exclaimed wordlessly, pointing at her screen.

"You got it? No way." LaF hurried from their hub, trailing a wire around their ankle. In her corner, Carm had lost interest, her attention now on her phone.

“I got it." Laura beamed at the pictures. The action shots were beautifully lit, the contrast of Mircalla's black suit popping against the creature's pale skin. In one, her cape glowed deep violet, her entire body silhouetted against the blazing midday sun as the creature crashed down in front of her. That one said front page. That one said papers getting sold. That one said Laura got to keep her job.

LaF made a noise of approval. "Damn, frosh. You sure did."

"What exactly did you get? A shoe?" Carm asked without looking up.

"I got her entire body, thanks," Laura snapped. Carm lifted her head, her expression unchanging. Laura set her face into her best ferocious stare, the same one she used when her dad tried to put her back in the biohazard suit.

“That's impossible, cutie," Carm drawled.

“Uh, excuse you, it's very possible because I did it." Laura swivelled her monitor around to show Carm, ignoring LaF's yell of protest when the corner of the monitor nearly clipped their forehead.

Carm lifted one eyebrow at the photo. "What's the big deal? Aren't superheroes a dime a dozen these days?"

Laura swung the monitor back around. This time, LaF moved out of the way. Laura started the slow process of opening her photo-editing program on the ancient machine, her hand shaking a little with excitement and definitely not with annoyance at Carm's unimpressed non-reaction. "The big deal is that the people of National City deserve to know who's protecting them. It's about getting knowledge into the hands of the people. It's the core of journalism."

"Sounds like someone drank Ms. Cochran's Kool-Aid." Carm returned her attention to her phone, her dark hair falling forward to hide her face.

Laura made a face at her. Ten minutes in, and she could already feel the impending arrival of a hundred future arguments.

"I'm proud of you, frosh." LaF clapped Laura on the shoulder. "Let's see what we can do about researching up that thing."

Laura beamed at them. That photo had started something, she knew it. She could feel the crackle in the air, the one she'd felt when her dad had first let her read the New York Times as a kid, the day she'd come out, and on the first day of college. It was the crackle of new beginnings.


End file.
